


Scenes From the Inquisition

by RandomnonsenseDA (B1nary_S0lo)



Series: Aylwen Lavellan [20]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Arguing, Babies, Babysitting, Backstory, Book: Hard in Hightown - Varric Tethras, Cullenlingus, Dalish Elves, Drabble, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fantastic Racism, Female Friendship, Finger Sucking, Fluff, Formalwear, Friendship, Gen, Gift Giving, Hurt/Comfort, In-Jokes, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, Lyrium Withdrawal, Mabari, Male-Female Friendship, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Blackwall/Josephine Montilyet, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Naked Cuddling, One Shot Collection, Oral Sex, Post-Trespasser, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fill, Reading, Singing, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Kisses, Spanking, Teasing, Tickling, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-03-26 09:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 7,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13855029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B1nary_S0lo/pseuds/RandomnonsenseDA
Summary: Short, prompted pieces and drabbles about my Inquisitor, her friends, and loved ones. Stories are arranged in in-universe chronological order (not in the order they were written) and take place at various points in the timeline of Aylwen's series.





	1. "Keeping dead flowers"

**Author's Note:**

> Most stories are SFW, but a few are NSFW and will be labeled as such.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Inquistion Aylwen and Keeper Deshanna. Takes place (mostly) before "Safe Journeys"

“Keeper!”

Deshanna, who’d been kneeling on the forest floor to gather elfroot, jumped at the voice. She turned.

“Da’len, how many times must I tell you not to shout so?”

Aylwen, her four-year-old apprentice, ground to a halt, looking cowed. Internally, Deshanna winced. She hadn’t meant to sound so harsh.

“Sorry,” Aylwen said. Her foot scuffed in the dirt.

Deshanna sighed and got to her feet. “Just remember next time.”

She brushed off her skirts and walked over. Aylwen’s eyes were on the ground, and that guilt Deshanna so frequently felt around her new apprentice burned inside her. By the Dread Wolf, she didn’t know how you were supposed to act around a child. She hadn’t even expected to be training a First so soon, much less one so young.

Once closer, she tried to catch her apprentice’s eye. “Well, Da’len.” She offered an uneasy smile. “What have you come bursting out of the forest to show me?”

Aylwen brightened, and Deshanna noticed for the first time that her hand was behind her back. She held her chubby fist out to the Keeper. Clutched in it was a white flower.

“Here!”

Deshanna narrowed her eyes. “And what is that, Da’len?”

“A present. For you!”

Deshanna faltered. She’d been hoping Aylwen would come back with Elfroot, like she’d told her to. But now she was too touched to correct her. She reached out and accepted the flower from the child. Aylwen smiled and Deshanna felt a fluttering in her heart, a sort of tearful feeling.

“Thank you,” Deshanna said. She smiled, a more genuine one this time. “Did you know, Da’len, that this is an herb too? Would you like me to tell you about it?”

Aylwen nodded, her blonde curls bobbing.

 

Deshanna stumbled across it while she was cleaning, a day after Aylwen left for the Divine Conclave. She was rearranging her meager collection of books and on a whim she opened one. Pressed between two pages was a dried white flower.

She took it and held it up to the light, mouth falling open with wonder. She didn’t even remember keeping it, and yet here it was. Immediately her mind went back to that moment, so long ago. The forest, little Aylwen holding the flower up to her, as clear as if it were yesterday.

Deshanna pressed a hand to her mouth, overcome.


	2. "Picking strawberries"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Inquisition Aylwen and her then-boyfriend, Dylahn. Aylwen is about 17-18 here. Takes place 5-6 years before "Safe Journeys."

“Riwyn! Joslan! Stop that!” Aylwen called down the row of strawberry plants. A small girl and boy, previously engaged in shoving each other, looked up guiltily.

“He started it!” Riwyn shouted, pointing at her brother.

“I don’t care who started it! No pushing, or you two will be back at camp with the Keeper quick as a wink!”

Cowed, the children grumblingly went back to picking berries. Aylwen took this opportunity to stand up straight, crack her back, and scan the rows to make sure the other children under her care were behaving. So far so good, though Athmen and Alaras were getting a bit too close to the woods for her liking, little Nolya looked a bit lonely, and Kia was spilling more berries than she was picking. Aylwen made a mental note to go and check on them soon.

“Isn’t this an idyllic scene.”

The deep voice made Aylwen turn. A lanky young man, vallaslin-less, like her, made his way down the rows. She smiled and moved to meet him half way.

“Dylahn.” She stopped in front of him. “What brings you out here?”

He grinned, looking her up and down, which made her blush. “What a question. I wanted to see you on the job, of course.” He glanced around the field, surveying the scene. Twenty some children, ranging in ages from four to twelve, wandered the clearing, snatching up berries, giggling and chatting. “Does Deshanna always have you looking after such a large brood?”

Aylwen shrugged, beaming. She gripped the handle of her basket tighter. “It’s not so hard. I just keep an eye on things. And most of the little ones have known me since they were babies, so they’re usually— _Don’t you dare!_ ”

This was directed at 10-year-old Ellasan, about to lob a clump of dirt at the back of his friend’s head. He dropped the dirt immediately, looking guilty.

Dylahn chuckled, and took a step forward. “Very impressive.” Before she expected it, he lay a hand on her waist, drawing her closer. “You’re so full of surprises.”

Aylwen stiffened in surprise, and her cheeks grew hotter.

“Not here,” she said quietly.

“None of them are paying attention,” he said. His face was close to hers, and part of her _did_  want to kiss him, like they’d done so many times in the weeks since he’d joined clan Lavellan. But instead she stepped back, wriggling free of his grip. She squeezed his hand.

“I’ll be done here in about an hour,” she said. “We can meet in the usual spot?”

He sighed, raised his eyebrows. “I  _suppose_  I can wait till then,” he said. He released her hand, and turned to leave. “Good luck with your chicks, mother hen.”

Aylwen shook her head, heart beating fast, and turned back to her charges. They quickly distracted her from how flustered she was.

“By the Dread Wolf, Joslan!  _Don’t_  put berries in your sister’s hair!”


	3. "LI hears OC sing for the first time"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-relationship Cullen x Aylwen. Takes place a couple months before they get together (during "Crush Course" in Aylwen's series).

Cullen hurried across the Skyhold ramparts, reading over new reports as he made his way from his office to the training yard. Recruits were joining the Inquisition’s army almost daily, and between training them and his regular duties it was all he could do to keep up with the paperwork.

As he entered the castle and began to make his way to the throne room, a sound caught his attention. A woman’s faint singing—high, carefree, and sweet—drifted down from the stairwell that led to the library.

Cullen stopped in his tracks, surprised and captivated by the sound. It was a song he recognized vaguely, a light, cheery folk tune he must have heard as a boy. But he’d never heard it sung so well, or so prettily.

The singing increased in volume, accompanied by footsteps on the stairs. Before Cullen could think about moving, she rounded the corner.

“Oh!” Aylwen abruptly cut off her singing, turning red. “Cullen! I didn’t know you were here.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I was just leaving.”

He hurried from the room, face hot, not wanting her to know he’d been listening. He was glad, though, to hear her song start up again as soon as he shut the door behind him. Cullen smiled. Even if she wasn’t comfortable singing in front of him, it was good to know the Inquisitor was enjoying herself.


	4. First Fete

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-relationship Cullen x Aylwen. Takes place shortly before they get together. Originally written for Cullavellan Week 2017- Day 5: Formal Night.

Aylwen stepped into the Skyhold garden, closed the door behind her, and sighed in relief. The chilly, grass scented air filled her lungs, such a difference from the stuffiness of the great hall. She just needed a few moments away from the fete, away from the stares and awkward questions, and then she would go back inside.

“Inquisitor?”

She turned, and her heart leapt embarrassingly high when she saw it was Cullen who had spoken. Cullen looking dashing in his dress uniform, smiling awkwardly as he strode over.

“Commander,” she said. “I… haven’t seen you all evening. You’re not at the party?”

“No,” he said, coming to a stop in front of her. “I needed some air.”

“Oh,” she said. “Me too.”

She blushed, looked away, then looked back again. He rubbed the back of his neck.

“You look, um.” He coughed. “You look very nice.”

His cheeks immediately turned red. Her own blush deepened, but she smiled and swished her skirts a bit self-consciously. She was dressed in a sleeveless gown of pale blue, her favorite color.

“Do you think so?” she said. “I was worried it was—I haven’t worn many gowns.”

In truth, it was her first gown. Prior to that evening she’d been excited to wear it, to really belong at the event. But then she’d seen the way her noble patrons looked at her. The way their eyes lingered on her ears and vallaslin even as they spoke to her through smiles.  _It doesn’t look quite_ right  _when_ they _dress up,_ she’d heard a woman whisper.

“You shouldn’t worry,” Cullen said. “It suits you.”

She looked at him again, surprised. His gaze was kind, the complete opposite of the nobles’. Warmth gathered in her stomach. For what had to be the hundredth time, she wondered how he’d react if she walked closer. She thought of the low backline of her dress, of his fingers tracing her spine. What would it feeling like to have her body pressed against his in such a sheer, silky dress?

But then he looked quickly away, and the moment was gone. She bit her lip, suddenly embarrassed.

“I should go,” she said, gathering her skirts and moving back toward the door. “They’ll be missing me.”

“Of course,” he said. Did he look disappointed?

She paused in the doorway, smiled at him.

“I hope you have a good evening.” 

He smiled back.

“You as well.” 

Then she fumbled the door open and was swallowed up once more by the noise of the party.

She didn’t run across Cullen again that evening, what with the endless nobles to greet, but whenever someone gave her an odd look or an open stare, whenever she heard a quick, whispered comment as she passed by, his words rang in her head like a protective charm.

_You shouldn’t worry. It suits you._


	5. "Talking about secret crushes"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aylwen & Josephine. Takes place shortly after the end of "Crush Course" and shortly before "Enough for Now" in Aylwen's series.

“More tea, Lady Lavellan?” Josephine said, holding up the teapot. Aylwen nodded.

“Of course.” She let Josephine fill her cup, then reached for the plate of petit fours. “Cake, Lady Ambassador?”

“Certainly.” Josephine took one of the small, colorful sweets. Then she and Aylwen met eyes and grinned foolishly.

Tea with Josephine was becoming one of Aylwen’s favorite weekly rituals. It was nice to have a female friend close to her own age, and fun to play at being a refined lady. Not to mention that Josephine’s polite exterior hid a sense of mischief Aylwen appreciated.

“So, Inquisitor,” Josephine said, wiping her hands on her napkin. “How are things with the Commander?”

Aylwen went red and laughed self-consciously. “Good. I mean… we’re still figuring things out. But… Good.”

“He seems happier,” Josephine said. “Or at least at bit less grouchy in the War Room.”

“I’m glad I’m a good influence on him.”

“I am glad as well. It does make my job easier.”

They laughed. Aylwen took another sip of her tea, then smiled at Josephine mischievously.

“I noticed a new bouquet of flowers on your desk yesterday, Ambassador,” she said. “Your secret admirer is very persistent.”

Now it was Josephine’s turn to redden. She smiled shyly at the table. “He is indeed.” She sighed. “I must admit… a part of me feels guilty, thinking of him rising so early each week to pick those mountain flowers. How cold and lonely it must be…”

“Don’t worry,” Aylwen said, expression dead serious. “His beard keeps him warm.”

Their eyes met again and they burst in to renewed giggles.


	6. "First gift"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early relationship Cullen x Aylwen. Takes place between "Pushing" and "Dancing" in Aylwen's series.

“Wait a moment,” Aylwen said, pressing a finger to Cullen’s lips to keep him from kissing her again. “I have something for you.”

Cullen blinked and loosened his grip on her. “You do?”

With a grin, she climbed off the couch and went to get her pack. After some digging, she found her gifts and strode back over to the couch, hands behind her back. She took a seat across from Cullen, whose face was a mixture of gladness and mortification.

“You didn’t need to get me anything.”

“But you got me something.” She thought of the coin in her pocket. “And we haven’t seen each other in weeks, and I wanted to.”

“Well, if you’re certain…”

Aylwen shook her head, then produced the gifts from behind her back and placed them in his hands. She’d scoured the Val Royeux market for something that suited him, and settled in the end on two carved figurines—a Fereldan toy soldier, and a Dalish one. She watched his face as he studied them.

“I don’t know if I chose correctly,” she said. “My people don’t usually give gifts.” She stopped short at adding that Dalish couples only exchanged gifts when they were bonded. She sounded breathless enough. “I thought maybe you could keep the Dalish one, and I could keep the Fereldan one. Then we’ll think of each other when I’m away.”

Her head grew lighter she spoke. Out loud, the idea seemed incredibly childish. But then Cullen looked up and a slow grin spread across his face.

“That’s a lovely thought,” he said, moving closer so their knees touched. “Thank you.”

Aylwen exhaled. She reached out and rested her hand over his. “You really think so?”

He nodded. “There’s only one problem.”

“What?”

“I already think about you when you’re away.”

She giggled and leaned in for another kiss.


	7. "OC singing LI to sleep"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cullen x Aylwen, dealing with Lyrium withdrawal. Takes place between "Pushing" and "Dancing" in Aylwen's series.

“Are you feeling any better?” Aylwen said quietly.

Cullen nodded, eyes closed. They lay on his bed, his head in her lap as she stroked his hair and forehead.

It had been a difficult day, a day of pounding headaches and faintness and, to his shame, being sick on the floor of his office. Normally he would have asked to be alone on a day like that, but Aylwen had insisted on staying. He worried about the lateness of the hour, and about taking her away from her duties, but her touch was so comforting he couldn’t bear the thought of her leaving. That, and he was now so relaxed he couldn’t imagine moving.

“Is there anything else I can do?” she said.

He was going to shake his head, but then a thought occurred to him. His face went hot, and his stomach flip-flopped in a way that was very disconcerting when he’d so recently been ill.

“Um…”

“What?”

He could tell by her tone she’d noticed his embarrassment. He considered pretending he’d fallen asleep, then thought better of it.

“Could you… sing to me?”

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, embarrassed by the childishness of the request. He often heard her singing to herself before he and the other Advisors entered the War Room, or around the corridors of Skyhold. He didn’t get the impression she did it for the benefit of others, but tonight he couldn’t get the idea of her high, sweet voice out of his head. He couldn’t think of anything lovelier than her singing.

“All right,” she said then, surprising him. “I can do that.”

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize.” Then, she added with an uncertain note, “What should I sing?”

“Anything you want.”

She giggled, short and self-conscious. “Okay.”

He heard her take a deep breath, and then she began. It was a quiet, soothing song, not one he recognized. The words were in elven—perhaps a lullaby. Her voice was small and uncertain at first, but slowly gained in strength and depth until it pierced him with it’s loveliness. Once again, all tension drained out of him. He exhaled, and felt himself carried away on a wave of tenderness and love.


	8. "Rescuing a friend from an awkward situation"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dorian & Aylwen. Takes place between "Pushing" and "Dancing" in Aylwen's series.

Aylwen didn’t mind talking to nobles at the various fetes she was invited to. She really didn’t. She’d always enjoyed meeting new people, after all. Or so she kept reminding herself on nights like tonight.

The women—two sisters from near Ostwick—had seemed fine at first. They’d smiled and been friendly, complimented Aylwen’s gown and the Inquisition’s recent efforts at Adamant. But then the questions began.

“We’ve been wondering,” the taller of the sisters said, “however did you manage to  _adjust_  to your life with the Inquisition?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Aylwen said, laughing. “How could anyone adjust to being Inquisitor?”

“No,” the shorter sister said, “how did you adjust to living among  _regular_  people?”

Aylwen’s smile faltered.

“Regular people?”

“You know,” the tall one said. Her eyes flickered to Aylwen’s ears and then her vallaslin. “Civilized folk.”

Aylwen’s stomach dropped into her toes. She shot a glance over her conversation partners’ shoulders, wondering how she could make a quick exit. But all escape was blocked by the press of the crowd. Blood rushed to her face and she turned back to the sisters, wondering if she could verbally excuse herself, when suddenly—

“Inquisitor Lavellan, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

A hand gripped her shoulder, and she turned to see Dorian standing at her side.

“I’m terribly sorry, ladies,” he said, turning to the sisters. “But Lady Rosmund of Hambleton desperately wants to speak to the Inquisitor. If you’ll excuse us…”

Hand still on Aylwen’s shoulder, he made a move away from the sisters.

“Lady Rosmund?” the tall sister said, stepping toward them. “We haven’t seen her in ages. Why don’t we accompany you?”

Dorian paused. Aylwen glanced at her friend, and she saw his eyes flash.

“I’m afraid that will be impossible,” he said. “From what I understand, the lady prefers to speak only to, how can I put this,  _civilized_  folk?”

The short sister’s mouth formed an o. But before she could speak, Dorian was escorting Aylwen definitively through the crowd and toward the far side of the room, his grip tight on her upper arm. Aylwen shot him a grateful look.

“How did you know?” she whispered when they were far enough away.

“Oh, one develops good eavesdropping skills as a mage in Tevinter,” he said. “It’s a political necessity. And besides.” He winked. “I can tell when you’re in trouble. What kind of a friend would I be if I couldn’t?”

Aylwen grinned. Silently, she vowed to keep a better eye on Dorian at future fetes so she could return the favor.


	9. "Creating an in-joke"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aylwen & Dorian (& bonus Cullen). Takes place between "Pushing" and "Dancing" in Aylwen's series.

The sound of familiar, raucous laughter drew Cullen. Aylwen and Dorian stood in the shade of one of Skyhold’s many tall trees, practically doubled over with mirth. Cullen, smiling, walked over to his love and his friend.

“What’s so funny?” he said, stopping beneath the tree. Aylwen looked up.

“Oh, Cullen.” She straightened. Even as she spoke she sounded on the verge of bursting into laughter again. She looked over at Dorian.

“It difficult to explain,” he said. His mustache quivered. “It’s… er…”

“…it’s sort of an inside joke,” Aylwen said.

“An inside joke?”

“Yes. Well.” Aylwen and Dorian exchanged looks again. Dorian snorted.

“Okay, okay,” Aylwen said. The edge of her mouth quivered. “So, we were in the Exalted Plains. And this halla… this halla tries to come up to Dorian and he… and he…” She covered her mouth, giggling. Dorian stepped in.

“—and I said ‘Get away, you  _numbskull_.’”

The two of them lost it, bursting in to renewed laughter. Cullen frowned.

“I…I’m not sure I understand why that’s funny?”

Aylwen breathed in deeply, clearly trying to keep a straight face. “It’s because—because he said—”

She lost it again. Dorian was laughing so hard he had to lean against the tree for support. Cullen looked from one of them to the other.

“Well,” he said. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourselves. I’ll just… go now.”

He turned and walked away, the laughter fading out behind him. He shook his head. Clearly, this was something you had to be there for.


	10. "Sleepy morning kisses that accidentally turn intense" - NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after "Second Night."

It was rare for Aylwen to wake up before Cullen, but today was one of those mornings. She stirred, blinked, and opened her eyes to bright light and complete wakefulness. Her face was inches away from his. If his eyes had been open, she would have been staring right into them.

They were completely entangled, naked and a little sweaty. Arms wrapped around each other, torsos pressed tight, legs overlapping legs. If it hadn’t been for the pins and needles in one of her arms, she would have had trouble telling where he ended and she began. Part of her wanted to move, but mostly she wanted to press herself even closer. These days, nothing felt close enough. A more rational, objective part of her mind diagnosed the situation perfectly: she was  _far_  gone.

Giving in, she stirred and pressed herself more firmly against him, settling her temple against his. He stirred, a sleepy sigh of air brushing against her face. His palm spread open across her back.

“Mm. Good morning…”

His lips were so close to hers she could almost feel them as he spoke. It was a ticklish feeling that spread all the way down to her toes. Instead of answering she closed the tiny bit of distance to kiss him.

He responded with a languidness that was unusual when he was more fully awake. He grinned, lips parting slightly against hers, and his hand slid up to tangle in her hair. As they kissed their tangled legs brushed together.

“This is nice,” Aylwen said. She tilted her head, finding the corner of his mouth. He responded by leaning down to kiss her nose. She giggled. She liked morning Cullen.

Their lips met again. It had happened gradually, but pleasant heat was beginning to grow between her legs, a side effect of their moving together. He was responding too, semi hard now. Their kisses grew more insistent, like they were trying to devour each other. Now, Aylwen intentionally rubbed herself against him, and he reached down to cup her ass, pressing her even closer. Between kisses, she caught her breath enough to speak.

“Didn’t we  _just_  do this?”

He laughed, breathless. “Yes. A whole night ago.”

She kissed him again, deep and hungry, before replying. “Mm. That  _was_  awhile ago, wasn’t it?”


	11. "Things going wrong during sex that leads to laughter" - NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after "Second Night."

Cullen was in a particularly romantic mood that night, or so it seemed to Aylwen. As soon as they were upstairs in his room everything was slow, deep kisses, careful undressing, and reverent caresses. Once they were undressed, he even picked her up and carried her to the bed, which made Aylwen hug his neck in delight.

“I feel like a princess or something,” she said as he set her down at the edge of the bed. Kneeling in front of her, he smiled and brushed a curl out of her face. His other arm encircled her on the mattress, hand supporting her lower back.

“You’re always a princess to me,” he said, without a hint of irony.

She snorted, leaning her face close to his. “ _Stop_.” Though he was in a romantic mood, she was definitely in a silly one. She tried to kiss his nose, but the angle was too awkward.

“Why don’t you lie down?” he said. His shy smile had morphed into that lopsided grin she was beginning to know so well.

She lay back, feigning an annoyed sigh. His arms were looped under her knees, large hands open on her waist, and she could feel herself growing wetter by the minute. She gasped as he leaned down to kiss her stomach, making his way slowly lower. As he did his hands also moved down, sliding along her waist to her upper thighs and… it tickled.

She stiffened, trying to suppress the laugh building in her chest. Cullen, about to lower his mouth to her again, looked up.

“Is everything all right?”

She nodded, still trying not to laugh. He frowned, but lowered his face. He kissed along her inner thigh, hands sliding down to her knee. He moaned, but Aylwen flinched as she nearly burst out into giggles again. He looked up once more, brow furrowed in concern.

“Aylwen…?”

“I-it’s fine. It’s fine. Keep going.”

There was laughter in her voice, but she hoped he didn’t notice. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin the moment, so she tried to breathe deep and calm down.

 _I am not ticklish,_  she told herself.  _I am not_   _ticklish._   _I am_ not _—_

Cullen kissed her inner thigh, right next to her cunt, and she lost it. She gave a short bark of a laugh, and involuntarily she kicked her leg, striking Cullen right in the face. He fell back. Aylwen scrambled up.

“By the Dread Wolf!” She slid off the bed, onto the floor and over to Cullen. “Cullen! I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?”

She reached for his arm, trying to pull it away and assess the damage. But instead he lowered his hand. For a moment he did looked shocked, but then his face burst into a grin. He began to laugh.

Aylwen tilted her head and frowned, even as her chest loosened with relief.

“You’re not hurt?” She cupped his bristly cheek, still looking for a bruise, and he lay his hand over hers.

“No. You didn’t kick me very hard.” His grin widened. “Are you ticklish?”

“Yes.” She was grinning now, too. “It’s my legs, mostly.”

“You should have said.”

“I didn’t want to ruin the mood.”

He shook his head, and moved her hand away from his face to press it to his chest. “You could  _never_ ruin the mood.”

Warmth flooded through her. She briefly pressed her forehead to his. He sighed, then pulled back, looking her over.

“Are you ticklish anywhere else?”

Her grin widened. “Maybe you’ll find out.”

With a playful growl, he scooped her up and dumped her onto the bed again.


	12. "I did not know this was a thing for me, but keep doing it" - NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after "Second Night." Includes spanking and more explicit sex than other chapters.

Cullen was lost in a haze of pleasure as he thrust into Aylwen from behind. She moaned, throwing back her head as he kissed her neck. Everything about her was wonderful, from the feel of her wrapped tight around him, to her gasps and cries as he moved, to the softness of her skin. He reached around to cup her breast, eliciting another moan from her.

“You’re beautiful…” He gasped near her ear. He moved his hand lower, down her waist and over to the swell of her ass. His hand landed harder than he’d planned, with a slight smack.

The effect was surprising and immediate. She tightened around him, her back arching as she gasped. Her long hair, tossed from one shoulder to the other, tickled his chest. He paused and looked down at her.

“I’m sorry. Are you all right?”

She looked back over her shoulder at him, face flushed. “Yes…” She bit her lip, then spoke. “Could you do that again?”

It took him a second to realize what she meant, and now  _he_  blushed. But then he remembered her reaction to his accidental spank, and it sent a twitch through him from head to toe.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled away from her a little as she went vertical over the bed, supporting herself with her arms. She wiggled against him and, taking her cue, he lifted his hand and smacked her cheek again, careful not to do it too hard.

She gasped again, pressing her faced into the mattress, and thrust back against him. He too began to move again, slowly at first. His hand came down once more to spank her, and she let out a high pitched cry of pure pleasure. He gasped as well.

They kept going, Cullen lay on smack after smack as he thrusted, until there was no way he was going to last any longer. With a warning groan, he gave in. She collapsed onto the mattress underneath him, coming with her own shudder and cry.

Cullen slumped down on top of her, then rolled over onto his side. As his head cleared and their panting slowed down, he was suddenly overcome with embarrassment, especially when he looked across at Aylwen, also lying down, and noticed how red her bottom was.

Before he could say anything, she rolled over so they were face to face. She was still pleasantly flushed, and to his surprise she wore a huge grin. Still, he was concerned.

“Are you all right—?”

Before he could finish his thought, she closed the distance and pressed her lips to his. She kissed him so thoroughly his ears began to buzz again, before pulling back. She cupped his face.

“Thank you for trying that.”

He reached for her as well, smoothing her mess of curls behind one of her long ears.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“If I didn’t like it, I would have told you to stop,” she said. Her own fingers brushed through his curly hair as she added softly, “and I know you would have listened. That’s why it’s all right.”

He smiled softly, the anxiety leaving him. He leaned in to return her kiss.


	13. "Reading a book together"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after "Second Night" and before "Call You Home."

Aylwen, leaning against Cullen with  _Hard in Hightown_  propped open on her knees, gave a small gasp and reached to turn the page.

“Wait, wait,” Cullen said. “I wasn’t done yet.”

She looked back at him, face pained. “But… I’ve  _got_  to know what happens.”

He shrugged. “I’m reading as quickly as I can.”

Aylwen’s shoulders heaved, and Cullen frowned. He’d thought reading together would be an enjoyable, romantic activity, something that would bring them even closer together. But it was proving more stressful than he’d expected.

He finally reached the end of the page, turned it, and Aylwen leaned forward in her eagerness for the next part. But when he was still in the middle of the first new page, Aylwen once again reached for the next one.

“Already?” he said.

“I’m a fast reader. I can’t help it.”

“Well, I can’t help being a slow reader.”

Aylwen crossed her arms, pursing her lips in thought. Then she looked back at Cullen, brightening.

“I know.” She leaned back, snuggling more firmly against him him. “We’ll read aloud. You do these two pages, I’ll do the next two.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and planted a kiss on her cheek, making her giggle. “Good idea.”

She adjusted herself against him and held the book a little higher. He leaned in and began:

“A single soul occupied the space, lighting a candle for the dead. She rose as…”

Aylwen nuzzled his neck and sighed, already being drawn back into the story. Shivers ran up his spine, and as he read he had to fight off the urge to stop reading and kiss her. He supposed he would just have to be patient. After all, she’d waited for him those last few pages.


	14. Hands - NSFW ish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a headcanon post I ran across on Tumblr about Cullen's hands.

“I love your hands,” said Aylwen.

Cullen looked up from his book. Aylwen, legs pulled up beneath her, leaned against his shoulder as they both read on the couch in her quarters. She’d taken his hand in hers as she spoke. Cullen grinned.

“My hands?” he said.

She lifted his hand closer to her face, turning his wrist as she studied it.

“Yes,” she said. “They’re beautiful.”

As he watched, she delicately ran one finger down the back of his palm, from his knuckles to his wrist. The touch, though light, made the hair stand up on his arm.

“Why the sudden interest in my hands?” he said.

“I’ve always liked them,” she said, glancing up. “They’re like you.”

“What? Covered in scars?”

She shook her head. “No, just… experienced.” She pressed his hand between her own, fingers threading through his. “Strong.” She brought it closer to her face. “Gentle.”

Slowly, she brought his hand to her lips and kissed it. Once, twice–little light kisses up to his fingers. Each one sent a pleasant shudder through him, but not as much as when her lips reached his fingers. Spreading his hand, she leaned in and sucked, slowly, on each finger.

He muttered an oath under his breath. Maker, he wouldn’t have expected that to feel so good. As she finished, she drew each finger from her mouth with an “Mmm…” and a wet, popping sound that made his head spin. Then, still holding his hand, she looked up and smiled again.

“See?” she said.

She didn’t need to say anymore. Cullen grabbed her to pull her into a hungry kiss.


	15. "Kisses meant to distract the other person"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cullen x Aylwen, slightly NSFW (at the end). Takes place between "Distraction" and "Baby Talk" in Aylwen's series.

When Aylwen stirred from her slumber that morning, she was greeted by a most unwelcome sight.

“Cullen?” she said, sitting up and blinking in the dawn light. “Are you…  _working_?”

Cullen, sitting at her desk on the opposite side of the room, looked up slowly. He was dressed only in breeches (Aylwen wore his shirt), and he had clearly just been in the midst of writing. His face immediately went red.

“Oh, you’re awake. I was only… I was behind in some of my reports, and I thought, since you were asleep, perhaps I would…”

“Cullen,” Aylwen said. “We  _agreed_. A day off is a day off. Leave it for tomorrow, or at least tonight.”

Cullen hesitated, then, almost as though he couldn’t help himself, he poised his quill again and began to write more rapidly. “I’ll be done shortly.”

Aylwen frowned, watching him. Then, with a heavy sigh, she swung herself out of bed.

She adjusted his long shirt around herself, then crossed the room and slipped behind the desk. She rested her hands lightly on his shoulders, and felt the muscles there twitch at her proximity. However, he did not look up.

She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his neck. With a sigh she nuzzled his neck with the tip of her nose, breathing in his heady, familiar scent at the same time. Cullen, stalwart, and also used to this sort of behavior from her, kept on writing.

Aylwen, not content to stop there, tilted her head and pressed a kiss into the side of his neck. When he didn’t respond right away, she gave him another, and another. She felt him shiver, and he paused, but then the scratching of the quill came again, more determinedly than ever.

She wrapped her arms around his bare chest, breasts pressing into his back and lips still close to his neck. She whined.

_“Cullen…”_

He adjusted himself in his chair, clearly trying his best to ignore her, but when she opened her eyes she could see she was making an impact. He was now writing very, very slowly, and his brow was deeply furrowed.

She closed her eyes again. Taking her time, she kissed up along his neck to his jawline, moaning and sighing as she did. As she reached his whiskers, he tilted his head sideways and exhaled deeply. She smiled.

She moved to his ear. There was no scratching of the quill now, no movement in the muscles of his writing arm. She sucked at his earlobe, flicked her tongue into the space behind it, then whispered, “Are you done working now?”

He turned his head and caught her lips in a bruising kiss, so sudden it took her breath away. She eagerly responded, letting him maneuver her into his lap. His tongue slipped past her lips and he ran his hands across her breasts, down to her waist, pressing her more tightly against him. She gasped with pleasure as he rocked his hips.

Clearly, she had him to herself again.


	16. "OC and LI fighting only to end up kissing"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cullen x Aylwen. Takes place before "Baby Talk" in Aylwen's series.

“ _Please_ tell me you’re going to pick those up,” Cullen said, unable to keep the edge of annoyance out of his voice.

Aylwen looked up from where she was changing into her bedclothes. Cullen was already under the covers, supposedly reading but now eyeing the clothes she’d dumped unceremoniously on to the floor. She finished pulling her shirt over her head, and shrugged.

“I’ll pick them up before the servants have to,” she said, coming over. “And besides, it’s my room.”

“I know, but…” He surveyed the numerous piles of clothes on the floor, the stacks of paper spilling off her desk, the couch with it’s pillows all scattered, and frowned.

Aylwen acted as though she didn’t notice. She jumped into bed, making the mattress rock so hard that Cullen almost dropped his book. His brow furrowed.

“ _Ayl_ wen.”

“What?”

She sat perched on her knees, looking at him expectantly, but Cullen shook his head and turned his eyes back to the book.

“It’s nothing.”

“No…” Aylwen said slowly, the humor leaving her voice, “clearly, something’s bothering you. You’ve been picking at me all day.”

Cullen heaved a sigh, and put the book down in his lap.

“I just wish… I just wish you would take more care with things, sometimes.” He gestured around the room. “I mean,  _must_  you leave your quarters in such a state?”

Aylwen raised her eyebrows.

“You’re one to talk,” she said, voice still level. “Your quarters aren’t exactly spotless.”

“I have a system,” he said patiently. “And I’m very busy.”

“And I’m not?” For the first time, her voice rose slightly.

“Not too busy to clean your room.”

Aylwen’s lips curved into a frown. She rolled her eyes heavenward.

“Duly noted,  _Dad_ ,” she said. “I’m a thoughtless slob.”

She crawled under the blankets, pulling them up to her chin with a snap of sheets. Cullen rolled his own eyes.

“That’s  _not_  what I said.”

“You implied it.”

“Why can’t you just accept criticism like an adult?”

“Maybe I will once you stop talking to me like I’m a child.”

Cullen made a noise of frustration, and rolled over so that his back was to her. He heard the bed shift, indicating that Aylwen had done the same. He shut his eyes and tried to fall asleep, but his heart still pounded in his chest and his cheeks were flushed. He loved Aylwen, but she really could be infuriatingly immature sometimes.

The two of them lay in silence for several moments. Aylwen fidgeted, and then he heard her roll over.

“All right,” she said, “let’s talk about this.”

For a moment, Cullen considered pretending he was asleep, but then he thought better of it. Slowly, he rolled over as well.

Her face was very close to his, brows furrowed and reddish curls loose around her forehead. She chewed her lip before speaking.

“I’m sorry, all right?” she said. “I shouldn’t’ve escalated things. I just… you’ve been so critical today, and sometimes I feel as if  _nothing_  I do is good enough for you.”

“That’s not true at all.”

“But sometimes I  _feel_  as though it is,” she said. “You’re educated, and organized, and good at your job… everyone admires you and I’m just some backwater Dalish girl.”

“But you  _are_  good at your job,” Cullen said. “Everyone admires  _you_ , far more than me. And besides, you’re kind, patient, loving…”  _A better person than me,_  he added privately.

Her lip trembled, and he reached out and ran his thumb over it, cupping her cheek at the same time.

“All I want is for you to pick up after yourself,” he said, half-exasperated. “There’s no need to get existential about it.”

The corner of her lip tugged up into a grin. “I suppose you’re right.”

She scooted closer, pressing her warm body up against his. Their lips met, and suddenly everything was all right again. The argument, his annoyance, flew far away.

A moment later, she sighed and pulled back.

“I really will pick it all up later,” she said, breath close to his face. “Do you think you can stand it in the meantime? It  _is_  my room.”

She added this with a grin, which he returned. He leaned in again.

“I suppose it is,” he said. “And I suppose I can.”


	17. Best of Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a prompt, but a drabble. Featuring Cullen, and his and Aylwen's baby daughter, Ella. Takes place a few years post-Trespasser (circa 9:48)

Cullen liked to listen to his daughter babble. Sometimes—walking in the fields around their home, or late at night when neither of them could sleep—he would carry her with her head resting against his shoulder, and she would speak almost nonstop in her own, secret baby language. Sometimes, he would pretend to understand her.

“Ba, ba.”

“Is that so?”

“Ba bah  _boo_.”

“How interesting.”

“Bap.”

“You don’t say.”

And then, like she knew what he was doing, she would laugh—the most ringing, joyous sound in existence. Laugh and wave her chubby arms. It made him laugh too.

Cullen’s daughter was only eight months old, but they were already best of friends.


	18. "Babysitting a friend's kids"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra, babysitting Aylwen and Cullen's daughter (with some help from their Mabari). Takes place a few years post-Trespasser (circa 9:48).

As Aylwen and Cullen rode out of sight of the window, baby Ella began to whine pitifully and squirm in Cassandra’s arms. Cassandra awkwardly adjusted her hold on the baby, and frowned.

“Stop that,” she said. “Your parents will be back soon.” But Ella just wailed and stretched her tiny arms toward the window.

Cassandra sucked in air through her teeth. Could she really handle this?

When she’d stopped in South Reach to visit her friends, Cassandra only expected to  _meet_  Ella, not be left in charge of her. But less than an hour in to her visit Cullen had burst in with news that his sister had taken a bad fall. Aylwen was the only mage around for miles and they would travel faster without the baby.

“It’ll be easy, really,” Aylwen, rushing around the house, had told her friend. “I just fed and changed her, and she’ll be ready for her nap in about half an hour. We should be back by the time she wakes up.”

Cassandra reminded herself of this fact as Ella shrieked and flailed. Half an hour. She just had to survive half an hour.

Cassandra agitatedly looked around the house for a place to put the child down. She was probably holding her wrong or something. As she walked Rufus, Cullen and Aylwen’s Mabari, joined her, trotting along behind.

“I don’t suppose you know how to calm her?” Cassandra said. “I certainly don’t.”

They were in the sitting room now. Cassandra spotted a tiny circular chair, floor-level, with a cushioned seat and railings all around it. Bending down, she sat the baby in it. Ella kicked her legs and continued crying, face red and pinched. Cassandra frowned.

“What’s the matter?” She leaned closer to the baby and sniffed. “You don’t seem to need changing.”

The baby whined, her face red and scrunched, tiny limbs beating against the chair railings.

Before Cassandra could do or say anything else, Rufus trotted over. Cassandra tensed, ready to call the hound off. He seemed friendly, but he was also four times the size of the child.

Rufus leaned down and  _whuffed_  in Ella’s face.

She stopped crying, eyes wide in surprise. A slow smile spread across her face.

“Da,” she said.

“Oh?” said Cassandra. She looked at the dog. “I think she likes that.”

Rufus panted, then licked the baby’s face. She clapped her hands and giggled, wiggling in her chair. Rufus sat down beside her, wagged his tail, and looked at Cassandra, as if to say: “You take it from here.”

Hesitantly, Cassandra reached over and patted the baby’s bald head, surprised at its warmth and silkiness.

“There, little one,” she said. “That’s better?”

“Da. Ba!”

The baby looked up at Cassandra and giggled. Cassandra smiled back. Maybe the next half hour would be tolerable after all.


End file.
